She passed so quickly. And unexpectedly. And although she wasn't very old, I suppose she had a hard life. She fought to the very end, still carrying on gamely and never complaining. She sounded like her old self, but her heart just couldn't keep pumping her life's juices through her anymore. A bottle of the clear blue liquid should have helped, but the effects were negligible. A procedure to clean out the old pipes, if you'll forgive me, was likewise ineffective. Her cycles just didn't...... cycle anymore. I feel terrible that I used her and, yes, probably abused her, and I never told her just how much I loved her. How she was as necessary to me as air. I never expressed the feeling that I didn't know what life was like before she came into mine. I will miss her musical roar and her stately silence. I will miss her steamy breath and her sweet smell. I will miss the fact that she was willing to work as many times a day as I asked her to, even when we asked her to do her work after we went to bed so we wouldn't be disturbed.
I miss my dishwasher.
1 comment:
A moment of silence for the old girl...
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